


Below

by Anon_M



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Scisaac - Freeform, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 03:05:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8429068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anon_M/pseuds/Anon_M
Summary: Below those watery eyesand below the passage of time,again we ask,'whom shall we find?'Are we alone,or are we in wait,for those whom we know we will spend our fate?Below those watery eyes,we walk past these tears of mine.Yet,as I lie in wait,in the shadows eye,I know,oh I'm sure.You'll never be mine.





	

"Masks.  
All of these,  
These doubtful masks.  
Again, may I ask?  
Whom shall we gift?  
Whom shall soar  
With the mask  
G'lore?  
Lover,  
Oh my dearest,  
My friend.  
Whom shall we gift,  
With these masks,  
Of Valor?" 

Stiles was shouting and speaking gently all at the same time, giving himself over to those lustfull green eyes.  
"It is sin to see such beauty." He whispered, his voice bouncing and traveling to unknowing ears.  
"It is such..sin to have you be so tainted." The wistfulness of the look the eyes gave him sent chills down his spine. 

"My love, why do you hide?" The words felt as thought they were rushing from his mouth, forming rivers and oceans, rerouting seas. 

"My mask is my pride." 

The young man had to respond, it was his duty, his destiny to show this lively young fool what living behind a mask felt like.

"Try, darling, feel the deepest compassion for this as I do. Do you not wish me happiness?" The young man said, holding a mask between him and his beloved. "This will make me happy for the rest of my days." 

Pretty green eyes blinked at him, begging him to push the mask onto his face. 

"Then I shall." 

 

* * * 

 

Derek woke, panting. 

The sun shone brilliantly through the window, dousing the room in a show of dancing colors and shades of morning. 

"Babe?" A tired voice asked from below him, forcing him to glance down. "You okay?"

Blinking, he let his head rest back on the pillow.  
"Yeah, o'course." He chuckled sleepily, kissing his boyfriend on the nose. 

Honey eyes sparkled back at his, and Derek knew he was smiling without even needing to look at their lips. 

Inevitably, Derek's mouth was drawn to those lips.  
Soft and pink and plush, a pretty combination for such a boy. 

"I had to make sure that it wasn't another nightmare." Stiles said, placing another fervent kiss on Derek's lips, almost chasing them as Derek moved his away. 

"It was only an odd dream. Don't worry." Derek smiled softly, yet again, dozing off ito a much softer sleep. 

 

* * *

 

Everything was so quiet when Stiles wandered into the kitchen, leaving his boyfriend in bed. There was no tick of the clock, and no cars driving by. Just a constant reminder that, no. 

This is not home. 

It never was. 

Derek had lied to him, no doubt. These dreams, they were more than just odd. They woke him. They made him thrash in his sleep, as though he were to fight some invisible monster. 

Stiles knew that Derek had his Demons. He was painfully aware of his Derek wore them as armor, as protection from his insecurity. 

It was unreal to Stiles. So unreal to him the Derek was distancing himself because of dreams, as if Stiles wasn't going to be there. 

 

* * *

 

This loft, this pretty building. This fixer upper.  
This small town, these people, there families and houses and plastic people.

None of this was home. 

This staircase, that picture on the desk. This map. This marker above the names 'Los Angeles' and 'San Fransico', these signs, these tears and pains and drops of blood on bathroom floors. 

None of this ever going to be home.  
Not the way Stiles saw it. 

Home was family portraits and cuddling during Star Wars. It was doing those stupid mazes on the backs of cereal boxes with a pair of arms around his waist. Home was dealing out cards on a Friday night under a sign that said 'Beacon Hills'. 

It wasn't screaming and crying. It wasn't traveling from place to place. It wasn't hospital visits or painful memories, even if they weren't even sad. 

Home was being sad together. It was letting a few tears fall because sometimes it was okay not to be strong. Home was holding hands in the rain where they first met. It was kissing in the dark and having meet-ups and it never mattered where because he had that one soul.  
That soul that made it all okay even when it wasn't all okay. 

Home was Derek. 

It wasn't the road trips or the starry nights and it wasn't the masquerades or the epic fights. 

It was Derek and it always had been.  
Ever since that day in the woods.  
Ever since they found the inhaler. 

It was always Derek. 

Now, Stiles wasn't even sure he had that. 

 

* * *

 

"Where the hell are you going?" Derek was crying, screaming. He was angry and he was sad and he wasn't sure how much longer he was going to kept it together because, no, Stiles couldn't leave, right?  
Stiles loved him.  
Right?

"I'm going home." 

Stiles was fighting tears as he threw random things into his bag. 

Toothbrush.  
Keychain.  
Shirt.  
Body wash. 

There were so few things in his back, that it was as if he'd left his heart and soul in the bed.  
He and Derek shared almost everything. 

Why did he have to give up so much, along with the love of his life? 

"Why? Why are you leaving?"  
Derek was shaking, grasping at any small trembling gasp of sanity he could, as if he were drowning. 

"Derek, stop asking why, but start asking when." Stiles shook his head, snatched his keys and fled.  
The tears waiting until the car to crash down on him like a tidal wave. 

His green eyed love watched him from the window, sobbing and hoping that his boyfriend would change his mind and get out of the car.  
Yet, he could feel the chances of that getting smaller and smaller as the car got farther away.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry


End file.
